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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245268">Hell's Favourite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charona/pseuds/Charona'>Charona</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe-ish, Banter, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Daniel has to learn things about being human, Daniel is a demon, Heaven vs Hell, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, M/M, Max learns how to be humane, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Apocalypse, Supernatural Elements, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, but just in one chapter, good omens vibes, leap in time, reads like a play at times</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:42:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charona/pseuds/Charona</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mighty forces, good and evil alike, place playing pieces on the board as they wish and fates get fulfilled or overwritten. So what if one young promising demon called Daniel gets the important job to monitor Max Verstappen and things get out of – everyone’s – hands? And what if he decides to knock down the playing board for something as fickle as a human’s love?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. From Hell with Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What an incorrect quote can do in under two hours - including my cursed 23th story here on AO3. Wow...<br/>I've always been scared of this number, so good thing we're facing demons and hell and general EVIL here in this story. Makes sense... </p><p>This is a mixture between “good omens”, Supernatural and the classic guardian angel trope, at least kind of. But most of all it’s utter crack. Please don’t take the church bashing too seriously, this is supposed to be a cute and funny fic, but it might have morphed into something deeper. I'd be forever grateful, if you checked it out and let me know, what to think.<br/>Have fun! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Introduction</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>An elegant, white-clad woman enters the stage and looks at you with warm and indefinite eyes</em>
</p><p>The world this story takes place in is quite similar to the one you live in. Basically, it <em>is</em> your world, but surrounded by two different and opposite forces, distinguished by nothing more but a thin line of imagination and belief, soil and air.<br/>
One is Heaven, filled with light and boring aristocracy.<br/>
The other is Hell, filled with sulfur and annoying hierarchy.<br/>
The humans are oblivious to both, because they don’t understand that both realms aren’t just places they will or will not enter after their death. They aren’t (just) rooms made of stone and fire and clouds. They are ever-present auras and surrounding every aspect of their lives, simply because they are represented by <em>people</em>, like you and me. Well, not me, but certainly you.<br/>
I will give you a quick introduction:<br/>
People, mostly human, think there’s an ancient war between good and evil forces raging in the world and they aren’t wrong. The daily business is not about the end of the world, Ragnarok or the apocalypse or however cultures want to call it. It’s more about facts and figures. Souls are a great currency and basically the essence of all of our existences. It is fuel and oil in the huge engine that runs this universe and measures our power.<br/>
This will be important, later on…</p><p>In the meantime, let me introduce you to the soldiers in this war, the ones collecting precious souls and heartbreaks:<br/>
There are no guardian angels, the idea hasn’t clicked with upstairs, yet, while manipulating humans has been a trope in the fiery pits of Hell since the dawn of time. Or at least ever since the apple and the snake, you know the story.<br/>
So, while Heaven still trusts their human representatives, the churches and their taxes, wonders and psychedelic drugs, Hell has mastered the art of manipulation, shape-shifting and recruiting young talents from their ranks.<br/>
They’ve sent kings (Henry VIII. was an extraordinary polished gem), musicians (Bieber is a bestseller in just <em>every</em> sense) and politics (demons have perfected their research of an orange cross-bred with a guinea pig for centuries – generating the egocentric Napoleon complex was the most difficult part).<br/>
But why bother destroying the world by sending people, who ruin its environment, its will to live and breathe?<br/>
It’s as simple, as true: Because hell works towards the end of all things. </p><p>But fear not, dear audience!<br/>
<em>The woman smiles at you so warmly you feel as if the sun had sent a single beam straight into your heart</em><br/>
This is not that kind of story.<br/>
This is the tale of a very special demon, hand-selected and perfectly trained. He’s the most excellent choice, for he is good-looking and funny enough to get into peoples’ hearts and minds and witted enough to use it to his advantage.<br/>
His job is it to surveil a young athlete from the Netherlands on his way to the top of motorsport. Why, do you ask? Because Max Verstappen, when fully grown, is an important piece in Hell’s Plan and they are sending the very best of their best to make sure that everything goes as planned.<br/>
As you can imagine, it won’t, but see for yourselves…</p><p>
  <em>She takes a miniscule bow and with a wave of her fine hand the grey curtain slides open</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act I, Scene I, Hell, mess hall</strong>
</p><p>Daniel can’t even remember a life before being a demon. He probably has had one, but apparently he’s been rather bad at <em>human</em>, because only the shittiest people find themselves in Hell after their death. The bible is right with that – at least once, because everything else they’ve written in that dusty bulky tome is utter nonsense.<br/>
He remembers the grueling lessons in the lofty classrooms, reading every satanic and cleric book ever written. Admiring the greatest of his kin, Reagan and Modern Talking and inventors of white lavatory brushes. As well as learning about the mysterious counter-forces, Gandhi and Martin L. King, Keanu Reeves and the guy who came up with waste separation – or motorsport.<br/>
He’d always been fascinated with engines and cars and he presumed he’s been a hackney’s coachman in his former life or a Pidgeon run over by a taxi.<br/>
Rather disinterested he picks some leaves from his salad bowl and listens to Michael ranting about his failed poison-making-test.<br/>
“I’m just too innovative to whittle fly agarics into <em>everything</em>.”<br/>
“You should have used them, you know? You never know, when you get to poison a politician..”<br/>
“Yeah, just because you aced every one of these damned tests…”<br/>
Daniel shrugs and Michael shakes his head at his best friend. They’ve met in the waiting line to the TV room over 70 years back, when Hell was under old management and they could watch the races together. Daniel knows, that Michael isn’t interested in Formula One <em>at all</em>, he just likes spending time with Daniel and Daniel likes the other demon with his wide grin and almost coppery eyes.<br/>
Their lunch gets interrupted by an officer approaching their table. Daniel greets with the Hell-typical devil’s horns in front of his heart, Michael just nods and devours his steak.<br/>
“Demon, registration-number 01071989-slash-3”<br/>
“Yes, sir?”<br/>
“You’ll be birthed today.”<br/>
“I… what?”<br/>
The officer raises a cut and triple-pierced eyebrow at the disrespectful tone.<br/>
“Follow me, demon.”<br/>
Daniel throws a quick glance at Michael, who frowns.<br/>
“You applied for a new job?”<br/>
“As if, I’ve never had one despite sending some chunk mail and placing viruses on small-district computers.”<br/>
Michael’s frown deepens and he wants to get up, when the officer clears his throat loudly. His lips are dark green and blistered like a toad’s skin – <em>or Hakkinen’s tires in Monaco 91</em>. Daniel grins at the joke and high-fives Michael.<br/>
“I’ll see you later, this can’t take too long. It’s probably just one of the traffic jams I caused or the weather forecast I manipulated. Sometimes these things don’t work the way they should.”</p><p>He follows the officer, whose pace is agonizingly slow, since his lower body ends in a crocodile’s form and he has to patter with the tiny feet over the black floor.<br/>
They follow the corridor outside the mess hall for a while until the air gets stickier and it reeks even more of sulfur than usually. <em>I’ve never been this deep down…</em>, Daniel thinks and suppresses a cough.<br/>
A door to their left opens and they enter a huge office. The black walls are roughly carved out of Hell’s belly, pictures of witching hours decorate the wall and a massive desk dominates the room.<br/>
“Introducing Demon, registration-number 01071989-slash-3, Sire.”, says the crocodile-officer.<br/>
“Ah, sure, Daniel, please come in.”<br/>
“I…”<br/>
Daniel gets pushed into the wide wing-chair sporting a terrible smell of camphor and cat’s piss.<br/>
About the names: It's easier to chose a shorter name than stick to the long line of numbers. Mostly because the hierachy in Hell obliges every demon to address the higher-ranking officer or knight with his or her full number. The time it cost to say a single sentence... So a new cadet gets the chance to pick a new name for himself. Daniel chose Daniel, because he liked the internationality and to be judged by God (who's dead, as generally known.)


The desk in front of Daniel is occupied by an equally massive figure. Daniel can’t see his face underneath the black hood and the nearly burned down fire in the fire place is of little help.<br/>
“Congratulations, cadet.”<br/>
“T-Thank you…?” Daniel decides to take the compliment, just or not, it’s always good to get your head patted, even if it’s just for existing.<br/>
“I hear, you’ve been one of the best students, we’ve ever had. The teachers speak very highly of you and your Trojan horses are amazingly effective.”<br/>
“Thank you… Sire.” <em>If he’s truly a Sire, he’s lengths above my paygrade… what am I doing here?!</em><br/>
“You probably wonder, why I’ve wanted to speak with you, Cadet, so let’s cut right to it.” Something moves underneath the hood, but Daniel doesn’t dare to stare any more intently. “I’ve got a job for you.”<br/>
“On earth?”<br/>
“Of course, son. You’ve proved yourself down here, but we need more talented people in the field and you are cut out for the job. Is this your natural form?”<br/>
Daniel looks down at himself, pattered shirt, shorts, socks and sneakers. He hasn’t visited one of the salons, yet, he doesn’t need horns in the office area and crocodile-officer is the living proof of how impractical body transformations can be.<br/>
“Yes, Sire.”<br/>
“Good. This is an important mission, cadet, and it will be highly rewarded. It’s surveillance.”<br/>
Daniel’s breathing hitches.<br/>
“Surveillance?”<br/>
“I know, it sounds boring.” <em>It sounds deadly dull…</em> “But it’s the key to a very important part of The Plan.”<br/>
Daniel’s eyes widen at that.<br/>
“The Plan?!”<br/>
“The Plan. My dear boy, I surely don’t have to emphasize the importance of this mission.”<br/>
“No, Sire.”<br/>
The hood seems contented.<br/>
“Good. At first, I just want you to travel to your target, get comfortable there. I heard you enjoy cars?”<br/>
“Yes, Sire.”<br/>
“God, because he will be a professional driver, once the people I already have there, are done with him. They’re good folks and directly guiding the boy, but I want you to keep an eye on everything. Later on, you will manifest in his life as a friend and take further actions.”<br/>
“The boy, Sire…?”<br/>
“Yes. A boy. Max Emilian Verstappen, resident Van-Houten-Straat 17, First Floor Bedroom, Hasselt, Belgium, persona-number 30091997-slash-33”<br/>
Something about that code sparks Daniel’s interest, but he can’t pin-point it. He decides to mention the obvious.<br/>
“He’s just an infant at the moment, isn’t he?”<br/>
“He’ll grow.”<br/>
Daniel nods and looks at the black hood again.<br/>
“You’ll receive further instructions, once you’re settled in around 10 years' time."<br/>
<em>Thank Hell, time doesn't exist down here.</em><br/>
"This is your IDD.”<br/>
“IDD, Sire?”<br/>
“Identification-demon-device. It lists the things that make you you for the next decades.”<br/>
“Decades?!”<br/>
“You’re part of The Plan now, my dear boy, this will be your life from now on.”<br/>
“Of course, Sire.”<br/>
He’s handed a long document made of snake’s skin, easy to hide for a demon. He opens the wax seal sporting a man with a goat’s lower body and swallows. <em>This sure as Heaven is important</em>.<br/>
He reads and frowns.<br/>
“I live in Australia? How does that make sense?”<br/>
The hood laughs coldly, leans back in the wide chair and simultaneously the office door swings open. Daniel’s audience is over.<br/>
“You’ll see, Daniel. You’ll see…”</p><p> </p><p>Daniel doesn’t even get to say good-bye to Michael, before he’s guided to the teleportation area by the officer. Back in the day, demons teleported everywhere they wanted in Hell. The injuries were countless. So, they kept all traveling restricted to one area.<br/>
"You'll return at once, this is just a small visit to get to know him. Later on in Australia you'll have enough time to adjust to human behaviour and learn there customs."<br/>
The officer puts exceptionally much spite into the last words.<br/>
"Okay, quick visit and then straight back. Got it."<br/>
Daniel pockets his instructions for now and nods at the officer, who shows him his landing zone on a digital map.<br/>
“Watch out for the garage, it’s new and not recorded in our system yet. Take that patch of grass next to the tree.”<br/>
“Alright. Thanks, mate.”<br/>
The crocodile claws scratch over the soil unpleasantly and he shows his yellow fangs. <em>Half crocodile, half wolf. The times we live in…</em><br/>
His thoughts get interrupted by a loud whooshing and twirling colours, before the world turns black around him. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act I, Scene II, Hasselt, Belgium, Earth</strong>
</p><p>Daniel has always looked down on the poor folks doing surveillance, consuming coffee from an inserted intravenous line and playing stupid games involving money, trash cans and pigeon’s shit.<br/>
And now he sits in the branches of a huge oak tree in the middle of a tiny backyard and stares into an empty bedroom.<br/>
He even had to fend off some sparrows nesting in the tree on his way up. Being able to fly and invisible helped a little and it was a rather short fight – he illuminated his dark-red eyes for a split second and the bird took off, screaming in fear.</p><p>Daniel readjusts his left leg around the wide branch and leans back against the mighty stem. He’s brought an apple with him and takes a bite of the fruity flesh, when the light inside the house gets turned on.<br/>
For a second he has to remember himself he’s invisible, because the soft bedroom light seeps through the window and hits the tree he’s sitting in unhindered.<br/>
Daniel sees a tall blond woman entering the room, a child in her arms.<br/>
He’s bigger than he’d imagined, but learning the development seizes of human children hasn’t been on the agenda in Demon School.<br/>
“So you’re Max…” Daniel mutters and watchea closely, as the woman puta the child down into a Formula One themed bed and tucks him into the Formula One themed duvet.<br/>
Daniel closes his eyes and listens to the conversation between mother and son without difficulties – demon senses have their perks, although a returning sparrow might cause an acute hearing loss right now. </p><p>“Mama?” says a sleepy and young voice.<br/>
“Yes, Max?”<br/>
“I’m sorry about today, Mama.” The woman sighs and sits down on the bed next to Max.<br/>
“I know, buddy, it’s not your fault. But kindergarten should be a place you can make friends, you know?”<br/>
“No one likes me there…” Daniel has never heard so much decisiveness in a kid’s voice. <em>Maybe it’s because you don’t know any kids at all..</em><br/>
“They will, I believe, they will. Let’s try again tomorrow, okay?”<br/>
A small pause ensues and Daniel watches, as the woman, Sophie, cuddles her son.</p><p>“I love you, Mama…”<br/>
“I love you, too, sweetie. Sleep tight and remember, angels are watching over you.” <em>Nah, not so much, but never mind…</em><br/>
She lets a hand run over his blond hair and puts a kiss to his rosy cheek.<br/>
“See you tomorrow, buddy.”<br/>
“Night, Ma’”<br/>
She turns off the lights and silence covers the room. A car mobile starts to turn in a soft breeze, which rustles the leaves on the tree Daniel’s occupied. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s me again…”<br/>
Daniel pricks his ears, as the boy’s voice fills the night, almost inaudible, as if to not scare any celestial beings off. He sees a tiny figure climbing out of bed and toddle toward the window. Small fingers press flatly against the glass, when Max’s wide blue eyes, the bluest eyes Daniel has ever seen, stare up at theblack night sky.<br/>
“I need someone to be my friend. Someone who won’t run away.”<br/>
The hurt, but also the childish-pure hope in his voice make Daniel stare down at the apple in his hand and swallow.<br/>
“Maybe send me an angel. The nicest angel, you have.”<br/>
Daniel’s maniacal laughter gets stuck in his windpipe, when he sees Max staring at him, without actually <em>seeing</em> him, of course, but still…</p><p>Daniel stares directly into the little child’s huge eyes, their faces mere meters apart. Max starts to smile a disarming and content smile, as if he’d got the news that his message had been received by a greater power (which isn’t wrong…). </p><p>Max turns around and slips underneath the duvet, leaving Daniel alone in the tree and strangely affected by an action as simple as a child’s wish. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act I, Scene III, a karting track, Hasselt, Belgium, Earth</strong>
</p><p>Daniel thinks that ignoring his first order might not be the best move to make, but he does it anyway.<br/>
He’s followed the car the next morning to kindergarten. An enclosure, parents bring their children into before they go to work <em>or screwing their pool-boys or whatever</em>. The night on the tree hasn’t lifted Daniel’s mood and the bird shitting on his sneakers didn’t help either. He vaporized it. The sweet triumph of revenge didn’t settle in, though.</p><p>He’s seen Sophie again and from what he can tell, she’s an honest and good mother. Boring, but good.<br/>
Jos Verstappen on the other hand… it takes Daniel less than a blink of an eye to realise he’s one of Hood’s helpers on earth.<br/>
“So you’re Hell’s Favourite sent to watch Hell’s Favourite. Interesting concept.” He states, while Max changes clothes in the locker room behind them.<br/>
Daniel can’t even bring himself to say anything. He’s seen that man yell at Max five times today already, and it’s only half past noon.<br/>
“I wondered, when one of you fancy lot might show up here to admire my work.”<br/>
“He’ll be a great driver.” Daniel says non-committedly and Max returns in that instant.<br/>
“Who have you been talking to, Dad?”<br/>
“What?! How dare you assume I’m a lunatic talking to air, huh?! Shush, up in the kart, boy, or do I have to make you get a move on?!”</p><p>Daniel leans against a pile of tires and wipes his cheeks.<br/>
The parchment in his pocket lights up and he gets, his time on earth is over for now.<br/>
He gets sucked into the whooshing and twirling of colours again, before the window into this world closes – showing only Max jumping into a kart and roaring off with a laugh. (It doesn’t sound that convincing to Daniel)<br/>
Then the window closes and he’s descending to Hell– to wait his turn in the game of Heaven and Hell once more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do you think? Readable?^^<br/>Daniel's name in fact translates to "judged by God", cheeky^^<br/>At the moment, Daniel is an aspiring demon and teenager and I imagined Max to be around 5-6 here, so the Lilo and Stitch quote works just as well as their actual age difference.<br/>And no, Max won't be a child for long here, this is just the start. He'll be way older next chapter, there will be a massive time leap :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. many meetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello and welcome back, folks!<br/>Second chapter incoming. Thank you for your support and the great comments, this feels really great :D </p>
<p>And I <em>love</em> your theories about the lady on stage, although, no, it’s not me (I have neither infinite eyes, nor do I know that much about otherworldly beings xD). Please do hit me with more of these theories, I love to read them!<br/>So, enough of me, here’s the second chapter, have fun</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Act II, Interlude</strong>
</p>
<p><em>The wise lady smiles at you and her eyes mirror the indefinite universe</em><br/>
“I greet you once again, dear ordinary folk, to this adventure. We will jump a great deal in time in order to satisfy your thirst for news and save me the trouble of recounting every little detail…<br/>
Still, let me sum up the events, which have taken place since your last visit.”<br/>
<em>Her lips twitch amusedly and she intertwines her long fingers</em></p>
<p>“Hell’s Favourite has set out and has been born in sunny Perth, sunny Australia. His parents, Joe and Grace, are the perfect bearers of these names for they are strong, wish for a son and care for him with upmost sweetness and goodliness. They deeply love Daniel, who’s aspired to make it as a professional driver in Europe. Hell has been laying in ambush and antsy anticipation, but hasn’t communicated with him once. Apart from a scolding for ignoring their first instructions. Michael has been sent to accompany Daniel – and stir some trouble in local high schools.<br/>
Daniel has become used to being among humans, adapting their customs and traditions. He has made his way to Europe and works for Hell’s own racing team Red Bull.”<br/>
<em>She smirks and clicks her tongue.</em><br/>
“Hell’s always had a great sense of humour, if you ask me… Max on the other hand…”<br/>
<em>Her eyes darken, as if clouds veiled the clear night sky reflecting in her eyes. Her voice trembles with sadness and anger. You’ve never seen this much wrath build up in such a short amount of time. Her knuckles turn pale.</em><br/>
“The demon Hood had sent has fulfilled his purpose. He moulded Max into a cold and ruthless athlete with little to none understanding for morale and dignity.”<br/>
<em>Her eyes spark, stars erupt in her irises and you feel a cold shudder run down your spine, as you behold her whole shape being consumed by blinding white. It’s so bright, it seems black, as if too much light would turn into darkness. Her voice shakes with disgust and pain.</em><br/>
“Even I dare not tell you. They’d sent one of Hell’s most feared interrogators and torturers. Max suffered a great deal to become the man, he is now – Hell’s tool, eager to fulfil his purpose. The perfect pawn in the war to come.”</p>
<p>
  <em>She sighs, the light drains from her features and her voice returns to normal. She smiles at you kindly – maybe even a tad apologetically.</em>
</p>
<p>“The Plan unravels layer after layer. Dear human, before I send you on your way to witness this adventure unfold, I’ll have to explain to you. Listen carefully and keep it in mind for it is <em>vital</em> for this story.”<br/>
<em>She stares at you intently and you see your own reflexion in her vast and wild eyes</em><br/>
“Daniel is <em>so close</em> to being a human. Over twenty years he’s been on Earth, amongst people and developed a morale code, his parents taught him. He might still be able to take resource from Hell’s powers from time to time to get his will and do his job, but he <em>is</em> human. Why is this important, you ask?”<br/>
<em>A benevolent smile spreads on her pale cheeks.</em><br/>
“Because humans are as much at risk of getting hurt as feeling joy. That’s the beautiful thing about you humans. You <em>feel</em>. <em>Daniel</em> feels. But most of all humans are exposed to experience hope – and heartbreak…”</p>
<p><em>For a moment, you think, she might say something else, but she shakes her head and with a welcoming gesture she opens the curtains once more</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Act II, Scene I, Red Bull Headquarters, Austria, Earth, 2016</strong>

<br/>
“I invented a new thing.” Michael says and swallows his bite of ice cream. Daniel stares at it longingly, but knows better than to steal it.<br/>
“What did you create this time? Planes mysteriously starting to flap their wings mid-flight? Cats that jump out of the tree as soon as you fetched a ladder?”<br/>
“They already exist. They’re called <em>cats</em>, Daniel, they are <em>literally</em> the <em>acts</em> of evil on Earth…”<br/>
Daniel stares at the opposite wall of the waiting area and frowns. Michael ignores him and continues scooping ice cream into his mouth as well as talking – which looks as attractive as it sounds.<br/>
“Nah, I invented fridges refilling themselves automatically as soon as you long for something.”<br/>
Daniel immediately searches his surroundings for a fridge and sighs, as he can’t see one. <em>I want ice cream, it’s Ben &amp; Jerry’s…</em><br/>
“You’re a fitness coach, Michael, that doesn’t make any sense.”<br/>
“Of course, it does! People get fat and die faster and the really evil ones are rich enough to employ me and stay half-way healthy for a while longer. It’s a win-win-scenario.”<br/>
Daniel keeps staring at the wall and the huge Red Bull logo carved into the wall behind a long front desk.<br/>
“How did you manage the time-space-paradox? Where does the food come from?”<br/>
“Directly from the factories.” Michael mumbles and licks cream from his fingers. Chocolate chunks crunch between his teeth.<br/>
“That must take a lot of energy…”<br/>
“Yeah, but ever since we got promoted with your F1 debut and first victory they unlocked better power lines. Has its perks being a Hell’s Captain. I decided to put the newly gained power to good use and make a few extra souls. Good for my credit account and my reputation downstairs. And as you know, it’s all about performance.”<br/>
Daniel grumbles something inaudible and it gets drowned out by the spoon loudly scraping ice cream from the bottom of the box.<br/>
It’s true, that the last years have worked out quite nicely for both of them. Michael is Daniel’s closest friend and trainer, but also the only demon he has come in contact with in over two decades. </p>
<p>Michael heaves himself out of the leather chair and discards his ice cream box right on top of the counter – next to the trash can.<br/>
<em>He is a true demon, no arguing about that</em>, Daniel sighs mentally and has to fight the urge to throw the box away thoroughly – like his mother taught him to.</p>
<p>For Michael being human is worse than downing a bucket of holy water. He struggles with everything that made humans human: The customs of the species and different cultures in particular, the small things like every-day-interactions and the concept of clothes and shaving. He just steals every shirt he likes (mostly black) from Daniels closet and curses under his breath all day long. The only time he is actually enjoying himself on earth, is when he’s able to talk about Daniel or their friendship – or exercise, what he was doing half the time anyway.<br/>
For Daniel being human is like swimming is for a fish, easy and natural to an amount he finds a little unsettling sometimes. It’s as someone handed him the key to a whole different existence and Daniel feels as snug as bug with it. He’s discovered his love for music and concerts and funny pattered socks. He dwells on movies and food, travelling and learning different languages. He’s developed a taste for beer and invested into a brewery – he had to fend off the idea downstairs and boasted himself with increased, alcohol-induced casualty figures. He bought a farm in Perth for his parents to live in and as a shelter for animals.<br/>
He loves the way the fuzzy fur of sheep feels underneath his fingertips and the sounds of a guitar at a campfire in the Australian Outback.<br/>
He loves his family, his parents and his sister with her tiny little son.<br/>
He loves being an uncle and the worst (or Hell’s best) he could bring himself to do over the years was teach his nephew the phrase “cash, money, bitches”…</p>
<p>He enjoys dressing extravagantly and quote Jim Carry movies to a group of friends on a night out.<br/>
He relaxes in tiny cafes with a cup of freshly brewed espresso and watching the Roman streets buzz with residents and tourists alike.<br/>
Daniel <em>loves</em> being human and being amongst humans. He likes how they laugh at his jokes and compliment his character, when he does something right or helps them cope with their little lives.<br/>
He likes how they <em>feel</em>. Women and men alike, he likes how their eyes spark and what noises he can coax out of them at the dead of night.<br/>
He likes how damp sheets feel underneath his naked back and how a sleeping head feels like on his bare chest. Women are beautiful and interesting, but he finds men more fascinating in their rawer nature and… other things.<br/>
<em>Maybe I just like sex</em>, Daniel thinks and crosses his legs, wiggling his toes in the process. <em>Not as much as racing, but a close second</em>.<br/>
If it was demonically possible, he’d develop a serious addiction for speed and adrenaline. Everything fast and dangerous goes for Daniel, skydiving and cliff-jumping and race car-driving. He does draw a sharp line at the ocean, however, sharks are just too much Hell’s spawns to get him close to open water.<br/>
<em>I’d still prefer the encounter with a shark over being here right now…</em>, he thinks and his fingers twitch lightly. He’s nervous to meet Max. He’s anxious to enter the new phase of his mission. </p>
<p>He sniffles and takes a sip from his water bottle.<br/>
Michael flops down on the chair again and sighs exasperatedly.<br/>
“How long do these meetings take?! They’ve been in there for hours!”<br/>
Daniel bites back the remark that they’ve been through the same procedure more than once, with HRT and Toro Rosso, before that in karting and… how much energy and time he’s spent on getting where he is now, this moment, meeting Max.<br/>
<em>Meeting the grown and adult Max</em>, Daniel corrects himself mentally. </p>
<p>Of course, they’ve seen each other before in the paddock and earlier on, but still. Now they are direct teammates and rivals, demon and protégé. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Daniel’s breathing hitches, when the door at the other end of the area slides open and Max leaves the conference room, his hoarse laughter at some mandatory joke accompanying him. </p>
<p>“So, Max” says Christian Horner (not a demon, but close to it and not just because he can’t get Daniel’s last name right…) and Jos Verstappen (demon, definitely) raises his chin in a defiant gesture. Daniel swallows. It’s a hostage exchange without the hostage or the kidnapper knowing it, when Christian points at Daniel and smiles fatherly at Max.<br/>
“This is Daniel. Your new teammate from now on. You’ll be spending a lot of time together in the future, since we want to create the perfect car for each one of you to back us up with as many point finishes as possible.”<br/>
“Christian, let the poor guy breathe. Hi, Max!”<br/>
Daniel grins wolfishly and holds out his hand for Max to shake. </p>
<p>The young Dutchman stares at him for a split second, as if he wasn’t sure what’s expected of him to do now, until he shrugs and takes Daniel’s hand.<br/>
“Hello, Daniel. Nice to meet you. Although the circumstances are a bit formal…”<br/>
<em>Nice way of saying this all sucks… Heaven, your hand is warm!</em><br/>
Daniel laughs nervously and forces himself to let go of Max’s hand before it can get too awkward.<br/>
Their hands slip apart and – there is a short flicker in Max’s eyes, just a split-second of coursing electricity, as if a current short-circuits. He cocks his head at Daniel and Daniel swallows drily. He feels like being sucked into the icy blue of Max’s eyes, the strong facial features, the sharp nose… </p>
<p>Then Max shakes his head and grants him a most welcoming smile with a tad of confusion.<br/>
“Sorry, I just thought, I’d know you from somewhere… apart from the obvious, of course.”<br/>
“I have no clue, have you been to Australia? we all look the same, you know?”<br/>
Daniel draws his accent and laughs loudly, until the noise gets stuck in his throat at Max’s reply.<br/>
“Well, they must be the best-looking population worldwide then.”</p>
<p>Daniel has expected a lot of the first real meeting with Max Emilian Verstappen – coldness, open rivalry, maybe a well-covered insult, something along the lines of the reputation preceding him, but certainly not this kind of warmth and <em>flirtation</em> pairing with a total lack of villainy (<em>Well, of course, you are the villain in this story, not him, remember?!</em>). </p>
<p>They grin at each other and something inside of Daniel switches gears. His heart pounds through his ribcage and he hear Jos talk to Christian inaudibly – it makes his stomach sink and <em>something</em> slips off into a gorging void deeply hidden in his innards.<br/>
He feels like falling for a small amount of time, while getting completely lost in Max’s eyes, who still stare at him intensely.<br/>
He ignores Horner and Michael exchanging some profanities over their heads and watches Max full lips twitch into a cheeky smile.<br/>
“What?” He asks, small amount of confusion mixed with a lot of humour and honest interest.<br/>
“Nothing.” Daniel grins at him and lets the strange sensation in his innards go like a kite swishing up into the clear blue sky. It takes him a second to realise that his own grin is in fact open and honest and another one to see Max returning it like a mirror.<br/>
His heart speeds up and Daniel knows, he’s in trouble.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Act II, Scene II, conference room, Hell</strong>
</p>
<p>A soft rustling sounds goes around the table, when the window into the earthly realm closes with a whooshing noise.<br/>
Shadowy forms sit around the table, made of solid and uneven marble. Skulls engraved in its oily surface. Smeared with dry and blackened blood.<br/>
The air in the room is heavy with sulphur, the smell is making the lower-ranking demons at the door dizzy, and slow clouds of smoke waft underneath the high ceiling. </p>
<p>A contented murmur arises, until an almost inaudible hum silences the crowd of hoods and shadows.<br/>
“Everything works out perfectly.” The voice is as cold as ice, as it tears through the room and even some of the dark figures shudder at the sound of it. </p>
<p>“Hell’s victory is close, my friends. Every piece is at its place, now all we have to do is wait.”<br/>
“Wait for what, My Lord?” asks the Hood, the only one present not shaking with fear.<br/>
A pair of fiery red eyes glows up at the head of the table and the voice changes. The coldness vanes and gets replaced by eager pride. It feels like sharp teeth tearing through fine skin and ripping out chunks of flesh. The snarling voice reverberates from the smoking walls and all of Hell trembles with anticipation.</p>
<p>“We wait for the prince to ascend and take his place at the head of Hell’s army.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hehe, what do you think? </p>
<p>Read you soon, take care!</p>
<p>Charona</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the devil you know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome back!<br/>I’d like to add something to the last chapter: Michael’s self-filling fridges are actually <strong>lily_katie</strong>’s self-filling fridges, because it’s been her idea, after we texted and I whined about I hungry I was… thanks, babe! &lt;3 In return here’s your favourite character again, although I wanted her to get a <em>real</em> break for this chapter^^</p><p>And a shout-out to <strong>RosaNautica</strong>, just because I can and for you it's extra long :D &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Act III, Interlude</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>The wise lady sits at the edge of the stage, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in her delicate hands. She sees you and smiles.</em>
</p><p>“Hello, my dear friend, so you’re back for more, mh? Don’t mind me, I’m just taking a break this time. Just like Hell must have done the past two years. Because since 2016 Daniel has heard little to nothing from Downstairs, no instructions, no Plan, just little unnerving incidents, he surely will tell you about it in a minute. He and Max have had two years to become very close friends.”<br/>
<em>She clicks her tongue and she does look a little smug now. She takes a sip from her coffee and her smile wanes.</em> </p><p>“But now things change and Hell is chafing at its literal bits, when the machinery of Evil comes to live once more. And over time things have changed for Daniel, haven’t they?” <em>She points at the curtain behind her.</em> “He will show you. And believe me, I’m equally curious as you sure are. Demons are always good for a surprise – even for me – but a demon in love is almost unpredictable. So let’s see, what our unlikely duo is up to.”</p><p>
  <em>She turns around, tugs her leg underneath her slim form and slurps her coffee, as the curtain slips open.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act III, Scene I, Monaco, Earth, 2018</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Daniel lunges at his phone, when it vibrates on the living room table. Michael stares at him with raised eyebrows, when Daniel grabs the source of noise and abandons the push-ups, he is supposed to be doing instead.<br/>
“A text from Max.”<br/>
“Wouldn’t have guessed it… does he have a special tone on your phone, the chirping birds?”<br/>
“Yup.”, says Daniel, eyes glued to the screen.<br/>
“Do I have a special ringtone, too?”<br/>
“Yup.”<br/>
<em>Wow, you could think that demons might have a higher attention span, but uh-uh.</em><br/>
“Which one is it?”<br/>
“The duck quacking.”<br/>
A small pause ensues, Michael’s mouth drops open.<br/>
“Yeah, fuck you, too, mate.”<br/>
Daniel grins without lifting his gaze from the phone.</p><p>He reads the message for the third time.<br/>
<strong>”Yo, what are you up to? You @home?”</strong><br/>
Daniel types an answer with light speed.<br/>
<strong>”Yes, Sir.”</strong> He turns to Michael. “Are we done here?”<br/>
Michael scoffs and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, alright, go play with your human. See you tomorrow.”<br/>
“Thanks, mate.”<br/>
Without seeing Michael off, Daniel looks at the draft of his message again, wiping sweat off his forehead with his shirt.<br/>
<strong>”Just finished a workout. You wanna come over?”</strong> <em>and make my day?</em><br/>
<strong>”Give me a sec, just running an experiment. Open your balcony door.”</strong></p><p>Daniel’s flat in Monaco is not half as luxurious as you would expect given his salary and fame and even less spacious. It takes him three steps to reach the balcony door. He steps outside into the bright sunlit Monegasque air. The tiles underneath his feet are hot and he squints against the sunlight, which immediately heats up his already warm face and hair. It’s as if his black strands absorbed the warmth and he calms his unruly curls with one hand while pocketing his phone with the other.<br/>
His gaze wanders over the harbour, the line of boats and old buildings mixed with new and fancy architecture. A whistle from above him catches his attention, he looks up and –<br/>
“What the fuck, Max?!”</p><p>Max Verstappen is hanging single-handedly from a balcony rail two stories up and reaches for a down spout to level his foot against. Daniel’s heart rages through his ribcage, as he follows Max’s movements. His legs strain, as he reaches as far as his body height allows and his face is a mask of utter concentration and focus, when he finds a new spot to put his weight on. Daniel watches the arm muscles flex and every movement of his muscular chest. Max is shirtless and the PS4 controller and two cans of beer he stuffed into his shorts’ pockets pulls the fabric down enough to reveal a protruding hip bone and a trail of soft pubes above dark blue Calvin Klein’s.<br/>
Daniel swallows and his heart races and neither has anything to do with the gruelling workout Michael has just put him through (halfway, at least…). </p><p>When Max contemplates his next move for a moment, Daniel feels the urge to just snap his fingers and hex him down onto his balcony – to safety. He wants to say something, warn Max, ask him to be careful, but his mouth is as dry as sandpaper.<br/>
<em>We’re in the fourth story. If Max falls… and if I can’t catch him… He’ll die. And nothing could bring him back.</em><br/>
Max lets himself down another story, a soft gasp on his partly opened lips.<br/>
<em>Hell would be mad. But I wouldn’t care. I’d mourn him for all eternity.</em><br/>
Max grips the next balcony rail, hauls his legs onto the neighbour’s mezzanine’s patio and finally lands on Daniel’s balcony with the elegance of a cat.<br/>
“Hehe, I always wanted to try that.”<br/>
Daniel isn’t able to form any words, he just stares at Max as if he was a Knight of Hell in all its abominable grandeur. His heart his in his mouth and he holds onto the inside of his shorts’ pockets in a vicelike grip.<br/>
Max wipes sweat off his neck and snickers, as he catches his breath.</p><p> </p><p>Daniel gulps drily and squints his eyes.<br/>
“That was rather dangerous…”<br/>
“Yeah, and even more fun.”<br/>
A typical hoarse laughter, which makes Max sound like a sixteen year old barely hitting puberty.<br/>
Daniel takes a deep breath and shakes his head, which makes Max snort.<br/>
“Hey, you’re not one to talk, you’re doing all kinds of dangerous shit.” <em>Yes, because I can’t die… I’ll just be spawned back by Hell’s powers. Might cost me a month’s salary, but I’ll live. You on the other hand…</em> “And you talked me into some very risky situations as well, remember?”<br/>
Daniel does remember. He remembers holding Max’s hand, when the jumped off that cliff outside of Mandurah. He remembers wild chases on Jet Ski’s just down the Monegasque beach and Max’s euphoric shouts and laughter. He remembers sneaking into his Motorhome, playing video games all night and being yelled at by Christian Horner for sleeping through the team meeting the next day.<br/>
And as a personal low he remembers Brazil and talking Max into confronting a certain Esteban Ocon (<em>“You could just barge into that that pink garage and punch that French bastard in the face…”<br/>
“His name is Ocon…”<br/>
“I don’t care, what his name is. He pushed you and there will be hell to pay.”</em>)</p><p>Daniel interrupts his incoherent trail of thoughts and pats Max’s back, sweaty and hot as it is.<br/>
“Thanks for the heart attack anyway, man.”<br/>
“Aaw, are you worried about me?” <em>More than you could ever know.</em><br/>
“Nah, just about having to get rid of your body, if something happened.”<br/>
“Rude. Just rude.”<br/>
Daniel manages to slow his heartbeat down considerably, before they make their way inside. The flat is cool in comparison to the hot summer’s day outside and goosebumps spread on Daniel’s arms. Max sighs in elation and empties his pockets onto the living room table – controller and beer, condensed water running down the cans. </p><p>The phone in his pocket quacks and Daniel rolls his eyes.<br/>
“Michael miss you already?”<br/>
“Yeah, you bet!”<br/>
Max flops down on the sofa and opens up the can of beer. Some of the carbonic acid bubbles over and Max sucks it off quickly, before it can ruin the couch. He cackles and leans back against the cushions, abs flexing and eyes glittering.<br/>
Daniel forces himself not to stare. </p><p>He looks down at his phone.<br/>
Michael. </p><p>
  <strong>”Man, I can hear your heartbeat through the fucking wall. Whatever you’re doing, stop it.”</strong>
</p><p>Daniel throws the phone into the corner of the sofa, slumps down next to Max and reaches for the Playstation controller.<br/>
“Some “Devil may cry”?”<br/>
“Abso<em>bloody</em>lutely. I will cast your demon’s ass into the darkest pits of hell, evil spawn.”<br/>
Daniel snickers and shakes his head. <em>If only you knew…</em></p><p>Michael’s next message is drowned out by colourful and brutal RPG. </p><p> </p><p>Daniel reads it late at night, after Max has gone home (through the front door, like a normal person). Daniel takes a sip from his water bottle to keep tomorrow’s hangover in check and cool his heated mind and body down. His cheeks are hurting, his throat is soar from having laughed so much throughout the day. He takes a bit from the leftover pizza and scrolls through a few messages from back home, before he sees Michael’s.</p><p>
  <strong>”Please tell me you’re being careful. We’ve got a job to do, man, stay focused.”</strong>
</p><p>Daniel swallows and suddenly the pizza tastes like dry carton. He sits in the darkness of his now silent and chilly living room and bases his head in his quivering hands.<br/>
He has known, that this moment might happen, that he has to face his emotions, but he thought he would have a little bit more time.<br/>
Time is a concept, which never meant anything to Daniel. He doesn’t age as demon, he doesn’t grow old, he’ll always keep the body he chose for himself, the fuzzy curls and scruffy beard, the tanned skin and perfect eyesight.<br/>
But ever since he’s human, he realises how precious time is. Humans are fickle, they break bones and they get sick and die. Daniel has seen it himself with relatives and even friends from school, colleagues in the paddock… People die climbing over balcony rails and from swallowing the wrong way. They die fighting wars and from accidents.<br/>
But never has Daniel thought more about time and chance and about how precious the gift of human life is, than now – now that he knows Max, the epitome of Humanity for Daniel. He is stubborn and proud and has a lousy taste in music, he’s loud and can be a dickhead. But he’s also kind and curious and intelligent, a cultural chameleon in being a multilingual European. He’s smart and funny and determined and strong. Devil, Daniel has never met anyone who went through the same <em>literal hell</em> Max went through all childhood long and turned out such a marvellous character. </p><p>Daniel sighs and spins his phone in his hands. </p><p>“I’m not in love.” He says to himself and his voice is creaky and hollow. “I’m just fascinated by these laboratory rats.”</p><p><em>I know, it’s a lie</em>, he thinks and unlocks his phone, nevertheless.</p><p> </p><p><strong>”I am focused…”</strong>, he texts back and knows, how childish it sounds. </p><p>Michael types and then the duck quacks in the nightly living room.</p><p>
  <strong>”You like Max. I know that. Heaven, the whole world knows that. But there is something, only I know. You are a demon, Daniel, you bring death and destruction. It’s your nature. Humans are our toys – for fun or Evil’s will.”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>”I know. I’m doing that.”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>”Yes, you are, mostly. But you’re becoming tame, man. And one significant thing has changed.”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>”What?”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>”You haven’t seen anyone else ever since you met Max.”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act III, Scene II, conference room, Hell</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Daniel shouldn’t have been surprised and still is, when he’s summoned to Hell on an utterly random Wednesday during the summer break. He’d been appointed to a meeting with Max and landed in Hell instead. Accordingly his mood was rather dire and he leaned against the wall with a sour expression.<br/>
<em>It will take days to wash the sulphur out of the clothes… And I’ve just showered, so… I’ll be late for meeting Max. Damn it</em></p><p>“Demon, registration-number 01071989-slash-03?”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
He forgets to salute and quickly does with the obligatory devil’s horns, before the steward leads him into the conference room.<br/>
The smell gets so bad with the doors swinging open, that he has to bite back a cough.<br/>
He feels completely out of place, wearing a bright yellow shirt and navy shorts in a stone carved room filled with demons, lit by torches on the rough walls. </p><p>“Demon.” A form at the head of the table says and an icy cold shiver runs down Daniel’s spine. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.” <em>Demons appearing in my bathroom while I shower to drag me down here is not what I would call an invitation.</em><br/>
Daniel is smart enough not to say it and takes a bow instead.<br/>
“Sire.”<br/>
“No. It’s <em>Mylord</em>, actually.”<br/>
Daniel gasps in shock and repeats the bow, much lower this time. While staring at the greasy floor littered with bones, his head’s milling constantly. He’s facing the Lord of Hell. The current management. There isn’t much more room for a promotion beyond that, and all the seven Lords are hand selected by no one else but the Devil himself.<br/>
Daniel swallows.<br/>
“Arise. Aren’t you a Sire yourself by now, Daniel?”<br/>
“Yes, Mylord, I just haven’t gotten used to Hell’s gracious gift, yet. Please, forgive me.”<br/>
“There is nothing to excuse, my dear boy.”<br/>
The voice is so cold and motionless, he could recite a phone book. Daniel shivers.<br/>
“Apart from delays, that is. Schedules are what make this place run, Daniel, and lately we’ve been missing results.”<br/>
“Results, Mylord?”<br/>
“Results. Pain. Heartbreak. Death. In short, souls. And one in particular.”<br/>
“Max.” It’s rather a breath than a word and Daniel stares at the floor.<br/>
“Yes. You do know, that he is the Prince of Hell.”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
“Good. In order for him to take his righteous place next to our King, he as to be altered.”<br/>
“Altered?”<br/>
Daniel figures that simply repeating the Lord’s last words might be a good tactic to avoid saying anything stupid. Now a tad of amusement lays in the Great Demon’s voice.<br/>
“Broken. He needs to be broken.” </p><p>Daniel thinks of Max. The man he has got to know over the past years, his friend, his-<br/>
“Broken?”<br/>
“He has to leave his human side behind, Daniel. He needs to be the first <em>made</em> Demon. Not carved out of these fiery pits or recruited from the dead, but truly transformed.”<br/>
Daniel stares at him in horror and quickly licks his lips to cover it up.<br/>
“Okay. Yes, sure.”<br/>
“You have to do more, Daniel.”<br/>
The voice darkens to a rumble and a few of the present demons crawl to the very far corner of the table. Daniel squares his shoulder and nods. <em>Be Hell’s Favourite.</em><br/>
“What do you want me to do?” His voice is much clearer and stronger, than he’s imagined it to be. He hears the voice <em>smile</em>.</p><p>“Break him.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act III, Scene III, Baku, Azerbaijan, Earth</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Daniel contemplates on what to do in order to please Hell and not lose – (whatever Max is to him in the end) – for a good week, until he has to fly out to Baku.<br/>
He loves the narrow street circuit, where the peak of modern engineering and technology meet human history and tradition. </p><p>He manages qualifying and a dinner with the team without further incidents, but every time he is alone, he’s antsy and agitated. Michael points it out during a warm-up before qualy and Daniel snaps at him like he hasn’t done in over a century of them being friends.<br/>
Michael’s dropped the tennis ball in shock and cocked his head.<br/>
“Are you alright?”<br/>
“Yeah, I’m fine. You know, not every fucking aspect of my life revolves around Max Verstappen!”</p><p>He slams the door shut behind him and goes for a run to get rid of the pent up energy and frustration.<br/>
<em>And truth is, it does…</em><br/>
His thoughts do mostly revolve around the young Dutchman, his eyes, the way he observes the car before every session, the way he gets competitive over a FIFA match, about the fact that he has to utterly break him as a human being in order to fulfil Hell’s Plan.<br/>
Daniel wipes his eyes and returns to the garage.<br/>
He thought about distracting everyone downstairs from the matter at hand by causing a big catastrophe somewhere in the Pacific. A nuclear incident or a tsunami. But the thought of thousands of death on his payroll suddenly made him physically sick.<br/>
So he concentrates on the only thing, he’s still actually good at and that manages to always lighten his mood – racing. </p><p>The race is difficult to handle, a lot of accidents happen early on and Daniel has never had a closer fight with Max in the other Red Bull before in his career. He wavers between whooping in excitement and groaning in anger, every time his teammate beats his lap time or he beats his.<br/>
Until –<br/>
It has never happened to Daniel before, but he gets distracted by his thoughts. He thinks about everything, the Lord of Hell, his job, the great Plan and suddenly he sees Max in front of him, far closer to him than he’s thought after their different pit-stop strategies.<br/>
And Daniel does the only thing, he’s ever known on this earth, a behaviour encrypted in his very core. He attacks.<br/>
He gets into Max’s slip stream and out of it when Max defends aggressively. He tries again and Max brakes to shake him off.<br/>
And then Daniel accelerates – right into the back end of the RB14. Carbon fibre crunches, a massive jolt goes through both cars and they end in a pile of metal chards in the tyre barrier. </p><p> </p><p>Daniel stares at the dashboard, rumbled and rattled, and blinks at Max’s exhaust.<br/>
The Dutchman doesn’t move for a moment, before getting out and trudging down the barrier to the next exit.<br/>
Daniel is frozen to place. He can’t even flip up his visor to get fresh air. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh Fuck! This must have hurt. He’s going to be furious</em>, he stops in his tracks of climbing out of the car and pauses. <em>He’s going to be furious.</em><br/>
Part of him feels like crying, the other one rejoices in cynical malice.
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>By the time, Max knocks at his hotel room door hours later, it’s more the first option, and his hands tremble, when he reaches for the door knob.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Max barges into his room and beckons him into the bedroom wall.<br/>
“What the fuck, Ricciardo?!” His voice is loud and surprisingly clear, wrath in check.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I couldn’t avoid it, you changed lanes under braking. I tried, but I got sucked in underneath your rear end.”<br/>
“Fuck, as if! You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because your season is an utter shit show, mine should be, too?!”<br/>
“No.”<br/>
Max stops still and lets go of his collar, as if Daniel’s firm voice would have calmed him down.<br/>
“Why then?”<br/>
“Maybe you just made a mistake, mh? How does that sound?!”<br/>
He knows, he’s on thin ice, when Max’s eyes spark up with cold resentment.<br/>
“<em>You</em> crashed into <em>me</em> and it’s supposed to me <em>my</em> fault?!”<br/>
Daniel tries to keep it up, the pace, the aggression, the anger, but he can’t shake the feeling that Max looks actually hurt underneath the open riled up temper he displays.<br/>
He puts a hand on his arm, where the sleeve of his shirt meets skin and closes his eyes.<br/>
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”<br/>
“I know.” <em>Is your voice trembling?</em> “I don’t want us to fight. What happens on track stays on track, okay? That was a shit day for both of us and the team.”<br/>
<em>Why are you still touching me? Why is your hand still on my neck?!</em><br/>
Max stares at him with wide eyes and licks his lips. He hasn’t showered, yet, and smells of sweat, fuel and his own odour.<br/>
“I could never hurt you.”<br/>
<em>What?</em><br/>
“What?”<br/>
“I was so scared, that something might happen to you.” <em>I can’t die, silly.</em>, is what Daniel wants to say and has to bite it back with all the force he can muster.<br/>
Instead he does the next best thing to telling Max the truth and the complete opposite of what he is supposed to do.<br/>
Instead of breaking Max, he holds onto him, caresses his cheeks and presses a shy kiss to his lips.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>No one is going to believe that anyway. Not after today.</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Max stumbles backwards like he’d been electrocuted and stares at him with comically widened eyes. Daniel sees his world crumbling apart in front of him and him trying to pick up the pieces.<br/>
He bites his lip and rakes his fingers through his hair. Daniel swears, he can hear his heartbeat to where he’s standing pressed flatly against the wall. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What the hell?!”<br/>
Max’s voice is a mere shadow of itself, hollow and void. Daniel gulps. <em>Maybe this does the trick. One way or the other.</em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I just had to. Sorry.”<br/>
“No, no. This is not, how this is going. You can’t crash into me twice in a day, that’s not fair.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>And Daniel Ricciardo, demon, registration-number 01071989-slash-3 has expected a lot from the next movement of Max Verstappen, human, number 30091997-slash-33.<br/>
A punch.<br/>
A tantrum.<br/>
Maybe just the bang of his hotel room door falling shut.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The least likely possibility happens:<br/>
Max takes a decisive step in his direction, grabs him by the collar of his shirt and smashed their mouths together. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Suddenly Daniel is surrounded by Max Verstappen. His hands in his hair and at the back of his head, his solid chest pressed against his own, his knee between his trembling legs, his tongue in his mouth.<br/>
Daniel quivers and leans into it. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em><em>What are we doing?!</em> He thinks with half a brain cell, when Max’s fingers sneak underneath his shirt and his teeth rake over his lower lip. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>What the Hell are we doing?!</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To my suckers for detail: </p><p>“the devil you know” refers to the proverb “Better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t” – or the song by X Ambassadors.<br/>Devil May Care is a video game about a demon hunting and killing other demons, battling himself along the way multiple times – and you can in fact play some parts in co-op mode, so that’s accurate.^^<br/>What isn’t accurate is the fact that Baku takes place and happens before the summer break. I’m sorry, but I had to change that, in order to fit everything else halfway logically into this. And no, changing teams is not a topic, here, Daniel has to stay put, you know, for reasons… :D</p><p>Thank you for reading as always!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. What did I pledge my allegiance for?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wanted to thank you all for reading this story and leave you with a short trigger warning for this chapter:<br/>we'll see a considerable amount of blood and violence at the end, as well, so please be warned and stay safe.<br/>I'm raising the rating, too. (This is one of the parts, where crack is treated seriously!) </p><p>Just so you know :)</p><p> </p><p>Thank you, folks, have fun with this new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Act IV, Interlude</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hehe, great scene, we witnessed there, wasn’t it? I liked watching it.” </p><p><em>The woman smirks at you, a red wine glass in her hand this time. She crosses her legs and cocks her head.</em><br/>
“So what happens, when a demon falls in love with a human?” She pauses and blinks, a finger pointed to her chest. “Don’t look at me like that, I have no clue either. It never happened before. Ever. But let me tell you something, my dear friends. Daniel and Max make an exceptional couple. One’s a sunny and cheerful kid from Perth, with his heart on his sleeve and the devil in his veins – literally. The other’s fierce and ruthless and a – well, not an angel and this certainly isn’t a story about pithy, shallow and oh so boring opposites – but Max is very outstanding example of a human.”<br/>
<em>She clicks her tongue and her eyes sparkle, one star in them shines brighter than the rest and you get lost in the vast universe mirroring inside them for a moment.</em></p><p>“And let me tell you something else. Humans do a lot for love. They are capable of enduring immeasurable pain and agony to protect the values or people they love. It’s a strange concept, because even though Gods are known for having killed one another in the name of love, no creature – divine, half godly or mortal, good or evil –, has killed more of their own kind than humans for this exact reason. Whatever they love, be it a so-called God, money or power over the little and dwindling deposits they so pathetically crave: They kill hundreds of thousands, millions, for what they think they need.” <em>She makes a pause and again you think, she may say something else, but she shakes her head and with a snap of her finger the glass in her hand fills with another swig of red wine.</em></p><p>“Just keep this in mind and show some of your well-praised mercy, when Daniel makes his decision and know this: Whatever happens, when two athletes of their calibres fall In love with each other, it surely raises attention. And whatever happens, when a demon and a human fall in love with each other, it raises even more – the only difference is, that it’s never good to draw Hell’s attention...”</p><p>
  <strong>Act IV, Scene I, a hotel room, Stavelot, Belgium, Earth</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, opposite and at the same time the very same. First eyes, then hands and lips and hearts in the end, Max welcoming him with such all-consuming trust, it makes Daniel teary-eyed afterwards. </p><p>It takes him a while to get his breathing under control and it doesn’t change with time, it’s the recurring thought of <em>”Wow, Max Verstappen in my bed, breathing calmly and soft fingertips on pale skin and he’ll be there when I wake up and we’ll have coffee and joke around and he’ll look at me just like he does now and, oh my God, I love you.</em> Whenever they get the chance, anyway, always at home, often in hotels and less frequent in motorhomes around the globe. </p><p>Daniel has thought sex might destroy it, cause awkwardness and make public appearances impossible to handle, but it turns out it’s the opposite. Maybe they don’t exchange dirty jokes as much as before, but only because they know the truth behind them now. The only truth, Daniel does keep from Max, is the one of his very existence and it fades into the background more and more with every passing day. At times Daniel forgets, <em>what</em> he is, because Max makes it so incredibly easy to focus on <em>who</em> he is instead. He's just Daniel to him and at the same time so much more than a single name can fathom. Sometimes it's hard to return to the tracksides of this world after weekdays in Monaco, sun-scorched or huddled under blankets on the couch, but they cope with it surprisingly well, being who they are and how <em>naturally</em> they seem to fit together - eyes, hands, bodies and hearts. Daniel knows, he's stalling for time, but he's too stubborn (and too in love) to do anything about it just yet. </p><p><em>Everything changed and still everything’s the same</em>, Daniel catches himself thinking one night in an exchangeable hotel bed covered with sheets in need of changing. <em>Well done, Baku</em>.</p><p>Maybe it’s this, familiarity of them together mixed with Max’s home race, the carelessness it ensues, the downright stupidity of all that combined, which lead to the mess, he is about to find himself in now… </p><p> </p><p>The hotel room door falls shut behind Max and he manhandles Daniel toward the bed with so much drive and determination, Daniel is all writhing limbs and hoarseness before his back hits the cool sheets.<br/>
“I can’t wait for Zandvoort…” Daniel sighs and throws his head back, when Max’s teeth rake over his collarbone. “If home races do <em>that</em> to you, there should be even more of them…”<br/>
Max’s high snicker is accompanied by the rustling of Daniel’s jeans being undone. </p><p> </p><p>____________________________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Sybille regrets taking the shift on a Friday noon. She should be home cooking dinner for her little brother. Well, he’ll survive without her for another two hours, because the rooms won’t clean themselves and she desperately needs the money to make ends meet at the first of next month.<br/>
“Come one, three more.” She cheers herself on and knocks at the door. It’s a race weekend, so the hotel near the Spa circuit is completely booked out. Luckily, they only take reservations from team members, officials and some journalists, so no drunk Brits or Dutchmen puking into bathtubs…<br/>
Sybille sighs and knocks one more time. <em>Jesus, you could at least turn the music down, before you leave…</em> </p><p>“Hello? Anybody in there?” She yells through the wooden door and hears nothing in return. “I’m coming in.” <em>because it’s Friday and I want to have at least some kind of weekend after babysitting later…</em></p><p> </p><p>The view, which presents itself to the cleaning lady a moment later must be one of a kind: A shirtless Max Verstappen, wearing just a towel around his waist, wrapping his arms around the equally naked – and equally male – upper body of Daniel Ricciardo in front of the huge mirror and apparently comparing skin tones. Verstappen presses a gentle kiss to Ricciardo’s neck, swaying to the deafening jazzhop song blearing in the background (<em>racers, they must be deaf…</em>), eyes sparkling and grin the epitome of post-sex-post-shower-bliss and – <em>Oh my God, they are in love</em>.<br/>
Sybille doesn’t know, why <em>that</em> is the first thing coming to her mind, but it is and she drops the dust mob in her hand. Even above the music the sound is loud and catches the driver’s attention. With considerable reaction time considering what they do for a living they spin around and Sybille is a deer in the headlights of two very attractive and very naked men.</p><p>“Ahm... I’m so sorry. I’m… I’m leaving. Sorry. Sorry. Excuse me.”<br/>
She sees something flare up in Daniel Ricciardo’s eyes, something very dark and very dangerous – and frighteningly familiar—, before she collects her cleaning items and flees the room.</p><p>She leans against the wall next to the room and covers her face with her hands.<br/>
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”<br/>
She knows, she has just discovered something inexplicable weird, dangerous, but most of all – <em>valuable</em>.</p><p>“Holy shit!” <em>Nope, still not playing for that team…</em><br/>
Max takes a few strides over to the stereo and turns the music down to a volume, which allows them to hear their own thought.<br/>
“What are we going to do now?”<br/>
Daniel is rooted to his spot in front of the mirror, their childish game of counting freckles and birth marks mere seconds earlier forgotten.<br/>
“She’s going to tell someone.”<br/>
Max freezes in his movement of slipping into a new shirt.<br/>
“You mean… press?” His eyes widen in terror and Daniel forces himself to nod. <em>No, not the press. Worse.</em><br/>
“I’ll talk to her, okay? I’ll figure it out.”<br/>
And in this moment, when his disguise got almost blown to pieces by nothing but sheer stupidity, Max has never trusted Daniel more – with his career and (unbeknownst to himself) his life.<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
“I’ll text you.”<br/>
Daniel tears himself away from his spot by the mirror, gets dressed and presses a kiss to Max’s temple.<br/>
“I got this, don’t worry.”<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
<em>Okay.</em></p><p> </p><p>You may think, Daniel will call his agent first thing, maybe Christian to get the team behind them, maybe his parents to have a meltdown.<br/>
But Daniel doesn’t call any of them. He fumbles for his phone and scrolls through his contacts.<br/>
He dials and the call gets answered a moment later.<br/>
“Daniel, what’s up, I thought we’ll see each other at 8 p.m. anyway?”<br/>
“Shut up. I need your help. I’ve just found a spy.”<br/>
“Don’t tell me, that-“<br/>
“Yeah. I’m fucked.”<br/>
“Lobby. Two minutes.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act IV, Scene II, Hotel Lobby, Stavelot, Belgium, Earth</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“You think, she’s a demon?”<br/>
“No, but she’s definitely seen one before.”<br/>
Michael nods and they eye their surroundings carefully.<br/>
“Do you sense her?”<br/>
“No, you?”<br/>
“Too many heartbeats and humans to figure out one in particular…”<br/>
“Yeah, exactly.”<br/>
Daniel fidgets with his phone, then steps from one leg onto the other, messes up his hair and pats it down again, bites his lip and senses it heal again.<br/>
“Would you stop that, please? You’re like a beacon yelling “We are not normal”, mate.”<br/>
“Sorry.” <em>Not sorry. Fuck.</em></p><p>“Okay, what has she seen anyway, that might be worth summoning a demon for?”<br/>
The fidgeting stops all of a sudden, Daniel stares at him flinching and Michael groans.<br/>
“Oh God, you and Max…”<br/>
“Yeah.”<br/>
“Dude!”<br/>
“What?! I’m not discussing my life with you – or my love life, for that matter.”<br/>
“But you should, you’re in desperate need of advice, because… mate, that’s weird!”<br/>
Daniel focuses the staff entrance next to the elevators again and clicks his tongue.<br/>
“Thank you, as if I didn’t know that already.”<br/>
Suddenly, he’s grabbed by his shoulders and pushed against the wall, Michael directly in front of him, all jokes gone and nothing but sincerity in his ebony eyes.<br/>
“Daniel, this isn’t a good idea. You’re a demon, he’s human. He’s the <em>freaking Prince of Hell</em>, Daniel. He’ll be your king, if Hell’s Plan works out. You can’t-“<br/>
“Fall in love?”<br/>
Michael has expected a few things from their impromptu meeting, but surely not Daniel staring at him with tears filling his eyes, on the verge of breaking down in his arms.<br/>
“I love him, Michael. I do.”<br/>
“Fuck…”<br/>
“Yeah…” sniffle, laugh, choke.<br/>
“Yeah, that sums it up nicely.”<br/>
And Michael looks at him for another long second, eyes searching his like a torch illuminating a cave. He finds, what he’s looking or and nods.<br/>
“Alright. We have to talk about this later, but I’ve got your back in this, okay? Let’s find her and…”<br/>
“Kill her.” Michael’s breathing hitches at that and then he takes a deep breath, staring at Daniel intently.<br/>
“Devil, you’d really do anything for that kid, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>Daniel’s answer – <em>Heaven, yes!</em> – gets pre-empted by the squeaking of trainers on the brightly polished marble floor, when the cleaning lady pushes her cart across the lobby. She’s quick about it, aware that guests shouldn’t see too much of the magic behind freshly made hotel beds and towel’s artfully draped on side tables.<br/>
She disappears behind the door with the “staff only” sign and Michael and Daniel scurry through it behind her. </p><p>They follow her through the empty back rooms of the hotel, where she deposits the cleaning cart and changes clothes in front of a rusty locker with the “Sybille Wehrer” attached to it. The locker is tidy, a pair of pumps at bottom, pictures of herself with friends and one with a young boy, equally blond and wide-eyed as she is decorate the inside of the door.</p><p>But instead of reaching for the handbag and a light jeans jacket, she grabs an old book from the upper shelf. She throws a glance around and with the snap of a finger Daniel makes sure she sees only the tiled walls and stuffed cabinets on the opposite wall, as if she would see right through them – because she does.<br/>
<em>She’s cute</em>, thinks Daniel, when she hurries towards a heavy metallic door and descends into the darkness of the hotel’s cellar. <em>Pity.</em></p><p> </p><p>They follow her unnoticed, past washing rooms and stores for luggage and heavy equipment for the hotel’s park. Her movements are swift and confident, when she deposits the book on an old and splintered table from the restaurant and starts drawing on the floor.<br/>
Daniel can hear Michael’s breathing hitch close to his ear, when he recognises the circles and symbols on the floor, drawn with white chalk, she hid inside the book.<br/>
Daniel takes a step towards the tome and nods.<br/>
“It’s a summoning ritual. She’s calling a demon.”<br/>
“And this isn’t some Hollywood bullshit, she knows what she’s doing.”<br/>
Michael nods at the silver knife on top of the open page, serious and dark magic scribbled all over them.<br/>
“How does she know, you’re a demon?”<br/>
“She surprised me, my eyes gave it away.”<br/>
Michael doesn’t need to say anything to that, they both know, a demon has to be seriously preoccupied to let something as simple as a red-eye-hiding spell slip his conscious.<br/>
It’s a rookie mistake and someone’s going to pay dearly for it.  </p><p>Sybille starts with the ritual by lightning a few candles and reciting a charm in a demonical language.<br/>
“Her accent’s weird.”<br/>
“Outlanders…”</p><p>Daniel takes another moment and then steps out of the shadow of a pile of carton boxes – and the invisibility spell. The blade in his hand manifests itself out of thin air, dark steel, oily of ancient blood and hardened by the fiery pits of Hell itself.</p><p>He sneaks up to her, his steps making no sound on the dusty ground.<br/>
Without hesitation he presses a hand over her mouth and holds the blade to her throat, blood already spilling from the tiny cut.<br/>
She squeals and wriggles, but is rendered powerless in his icy grip.<br/>
“Who are you calling? Who are you spying for?”<br/>
She tries to bite his finger and Daniel smacks her over the head with the back of his hand. She sinks back against him, dizzy and groaning.<br/>
“Let go of me, please, I won’t say anything.”<br/>
Michael, equally visible now, skims through the summoning book and clicks his tongue dissaprovingly.<br/>
“Doesn’t seem like it.”<br/>
“Any idea, who she might be working for?” asks Daniel, but Michael shakes his head.<br/>
“I don’t know, the ritual doesn’t include a name, it just dials any demon in a close perimeter.”<br/>
Suddenly Sybille is shaken by a terrible sob and tears run down her cheek. Daniel is carrying almost her whole body weight now.<br/>
“Please, please, let me go!” she whimpers. “I just need the money. They pay me, please. I have a little brother, I have to look out for him.”<br/>
Daniel cheers and feels cruel cheerfulness well up in him.<br/>
“Pity, that, because I, too, have someone I care about. And you saw us. And Hell will-“ he stops for a second, because another sob shakes her so severely, she almost loses consciousness. Daniel gently combs a strand of blond her out of her swollen face. Her left eye is badly bruised. “Sh, sh… See, Hell will be sincerely disappointed. And” he leans forward and whispers in her ear. “-disappointing Hell is never a good idea.”<br/>
“I saw nothing.  Please, I saw NOTHING!” She screamed and Daniel yanked her back at her hair.<br/>
“You did! And I can’t let you get through with it, because…” <em>they’ll take Max away from me, because we are wrong. Even in Hell’s opinion.</em><br/>
Because Daniel can’t sleep with the Prince of Hell, because it’s the opposite of what he’s supposed to do. And because-<br/>
“They’ll capture him and they will kill him. Well…” He gestures with the knife, a loose wave of sparkling steel through the dimly lit cellar. The light of the candles reflects in the tip. “They will burn him, slowly and for <em>days</em>, and they will flay every inch of his skin. They will make him choke on his own blood, until he’s begging them to kill him – as long as they leave him his tongue, that is. And after they finally, <em>eventually</em> granted him death, they will bring him back.” She whimpers and begs and Daniel discards her whispers with a shrug. “They have to, because… Max is important, you know? This would be just to teach him a lesson. Cut out the middleman, me, and <em>break him</em>.” He contemplates saying more, saying that it would make him expandable and therefore be his doom, that it would end his mission on Earth, he’d lose everything, <em>Max</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He shakes off the thought and points at the book, Michael is still holding in his hands.<br/>
“Where did you get this from?”<br/>
She shakes her head and Daniel clenches his teeth.<br/>
“They just pay me for updates here. Just minor deals for politicians and stuff. Really, I swear, that is all.” Daniel stares her dead in the eyes, sees the panic in them, the terror filling every cell of her slim body.<br/>
“Please, please, let me go!”</p><p>He throws a glance at Michael and his friend nods. They both believe her – which seals her fate. </p><p>“You should have chosen a different side job.” Daniel sneers and with one swift motion he slits her throat. She sinks to her knees with a loud thud, gurgling and hissing through the cut windpipe, one hand desperately clutched to her neck. Blood spills out of the wound, splattering through her fingers and over her white shirt.<br/>
She’s dead in seconds.</p><p> </p><p>Daniel wipes the knife clean on one of the dusty table cloths, leaving dark red stains in the white fabric, and looks at Michael.</p><p>“Even for a demon, that was cold blooded, mate.”<br/>
Daniel nods and with a snap of his finger the blade disappears again.<br/>
“Allow me one question, Daniel. What if it’s Christian the next time? Or your dad? Or Max’s?”<br/>
“Oh, I’ll gladly bring that dickhead to his grave and that where three questions.”</p><p>Michael snickers at that, a man standing above a body and shaking his head in disbelief.<br/>
“You really love him, don’t you?”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
“Alright then. You’re my brother and you love him, I’m with you.”<br/>
“You’ll fend off <em>Hell</em> with me?!”<br/>
“Hell, Heaven, the whole damned Universe, if I have to.”<br/>
He pats his shoulder and Daniel nods with blank features. <em>As simple as that. I love you.</em></p><p>He stares down at Sybille and the blood dripping from her slit throat and nods a miniscule nod. </p><p>“Let’s clean this up, we have a team meeting at 8.”</p><p>Suddenly the sharp ringing of Daniel’s phone fills the room, reverberates from the empty walls and makes Michael jump in surprise. </p><p>Daniel’s fingers leave a trace of blood on the screen, when he fumbles for it in his pockets and answers Max’s call.<br/>
“Hey, Daniel, I just wanted to check in, whether you reached the cleaning lady. Will she tell anyone?”<br/>
Daniel looks down at the woman’s body, splayed limbs and blank nothingness in her lustreless eyes. </p><p>“I doubt it.”<br/>
He hears Max frown on the other end of the line, before he lets go of all the upheld tension with a deep sigh.<br/>
“That’s great! Did she try to bribe you or anything? Did you have to pay her?”</p><p>Daniel watches the tear escape the dead blue eye, roll over the blood-crusted cheek and drop to the floor. It leaves a black spot in the dust. He keeps staring at her until her juvenile face, the necklace with the crucifix around her neck, the hair tie around her wrist are imprinted to his eyelids.<br/>
“Let’s say, I made her an offer, she couldn’t refuse. We won’t hear from her again.”<br/>
“Phew, okay, cool, thank you, Daniel. I knew, I could trust you with this.”<br/>
Daniel nods at Michael, who’s spreading out a blanket to wrap the body into.<br/>
“Always, Max.”<br/>
And Michael watches with worry and wildly beating heart, as Daniel’s lips twitch into a cruel smile and his fingers, covered in drying blood, twitch.<br/>
“I’ll always watch out for you.” <em>and kill an army of thousands, if I have to</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act IV, Scene III, Hotel Cellar, Stavelot, Belgium, Earth</strong>

</p><p> </p><p>And behind Daniel, unseen and well hid in the very far corner, a figure detaches itself from the shadows merely visible. It seems to be even blacker than its surroundings, swallowing all light and positivity around it, a black hole, its centre a faceless form underneath a black Hood. </p><p>All that’s visible are a pair of red eyes flaring up in the dark – and a demonical grin splitting the blackness, teeth sharp and blinding white.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’ve never spent this much time on finding a suiting name for a minor character, but “Sybille” or “Sibylle” refers to wise women and priestesses in Ancient Greek, forecasting Trojan’s destruction e.g. They have been cursed by Apollo, so no one believes their prophecies.<br/>I just wanted something meaningful for her, no matter how short her appearance^^ </p><p>Title is from one of my favourite songs ever: sticks and stones by kings kaleidoscope.<br/>"Did I pledge my allegiance for the purpose of progress?" I love this song, have a listen, if you like. </p><p>Other than that, thanks for reading! </p><p>Read you soon,<br/>Charona</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The (in)significance of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello and welcome back to this project!<br/>Thanks for all the awesome feedback on this story, it's so much fun writing this. Here's the next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Act V, Scene I, Texas, USA, Earth</strong>
</p><p>Daniel has kept jealous watch over Max for the last couple of weeks and by the time the race calendar shoos them across the Atlantic onto American soil, Daniel is exhausted to the bones. He clings to Red Bulls and despises the irony of that, while watching over Max’s sleep or searching safe roads from the various hotels to the race tracks, to restaurants and back – just to avoid running into a crossroad demon, who may have more questions than Daniel is ready to answer. Which means <em>any</em> questions. </p><p>Max does realise, that something is wrong, but it’s also no secret, how bad Daniel’s season is at the moment. Monaco looks like a whimsical high in the rear view mirror by now. So Max tries his very best to distract him – by gaming, watching old horror movies, or (his favourite pastime) having sex.<br/>
This time they don’t even make it to the bed, but end up as a pile of partly undressed bodies and cushions on the sofa. They’ve been separated for a while, respective sponsor meetings demanding their presence all weekend long and now that they finally get some long craved time alone passion takes over.</p><p> </p><p>It’s much later, when they’ve made it to the bed and the hotel owns detergent has covered up the smell of sex, when Max lifts his head from the depth of his pillow and looks at Daniel.</p><p>“Do you believe in God?”<br/>
Daniel turns his head away from the TV and the terrible redneck’s cooking show to face him.<br/>
“What do you mean?”<br/>
Max keeps looking at him with deep blue eyes and despite the dark circles underneath them he is wide awake.<br/>
“Well, I don’t know. Do you believe in-?”<br/>
He points at the ceiling of his hotel room door.<br/>
“Ventilators? Yeah, they’re pretty powerful.”<br/>
Max laughs his creaky snicker and ruffles his already nicely tousled hair.<br/>
“You know, what I mean.” <em>I do, I’m just trying to buy myself some time in order to come up with an answer, that’s neither a lie nor the truth.</em> </p><p>It’s that tightrope act, Daniel has come to hate over the past weeks. The constant lying, the middle ground between putting off Hell and not raising any suspicion from <em>anyone</em>. </p><p>“I don’t know… do you?”<br/>
Max thinks about the question for a good minute and shrugs.<br/>
“Maybe, yeah. I mean, I haven’t been raised in any way religious” <em>Yes, I wouldn’t wonder why that is…</em> “But I’ve been to churches and my mother believed in angels.”<br/>
Daniel feels a lump in his throat, an invisible rope coiling around his neck. He remembers his first time on Earth, the Formula One themed children’s bed and Sofie softly talking to Max. He might have been too young to remember it, but obviously <em>something</em> of that motherly moments stuck with him.<br/>
“I don’t imagine an old man with a long white beard and white cloak, but I do think, there’s something more powerful than us, right? Something influencing us and leading us.”<br/>
“Fate?” <em>If so, she’s a real bitch…</em><br/>
“Maybe, yeah.” Max is more awake than ever now and props himself up onto his elbow, sculpted upper body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “I mean, there has to be a reason, why we are the way we are, right? Some kind of predestined course. I mean, imagine you being a football player. Or a cricket player, although that sport is boring as f-“<br/>
“Don’t you dare, Max Verstappen!”<br/>
And he pokes him in the sides hard enough to make Max squirm and shriek, which ends in too much friction between their heated bodies to not end in a quarter hour of shared kisses. </p><p>Max’s eyes still radiate cheekiness, when they part.<br/>
“Do you wonder about this sometimes?”<br/>
“You mean, the way things are and how they could have been?” <em>Far more often than you can imagine. For decades.</em><br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
“Sometimes, yeah.” Max snuggles down into Daniel’s side again and the older one holds onto him with a little more force than necessary. </p><p>He utters the next words as carefully sorted and weighed as possible.<br/>
“All I want to say is, that I’m proud of the way you turned out. Despite… everything.”<br/>
“You mean my dad?”<br/>
“Yeah…” More a breath than an actual words and Max frowns at the muted TV, unaware of the inner turmoil Daniel tries to sort out with all his might.<br/>
He feels like Daniel may add something, but he doesn’t.<br/>
“Okay.” Max says instead and presses a kiss to Daniel’s chest. </p><p> </p><p>The silence stretches for a couple of minutes and Max already doesn’t expect an answer anymore, when Daniel’s voice fills the room, soft and almost gloomy.</p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe there is something. But I doubt, that it’s good or good-willed.”<br/>
“Why?”<br/>
“Did you take a look at the world lately? Not exactly peachy, what’s going on there, mh?”<br/>
Max can’t shake the feeling, that this topic is agitating Daniel to an amount that’s new to him. Not even the disaster in Monaco 2017 has earned that much of the Aussie’s spite.<br/>
“Yeah, but there are a lot of people, who are doing a lot of good, aren’t there?”<br/>
Daniel sighs and presses a kiss into Max’s hair.<br/>
“Maybe, yeah.”<br/>
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to talk you into marrying me in some weird chapel or something like this. I was just wondering, because I want to get to know you and what we believe is a huge part of who we are, isn’t it?”<br/>
He <em>hears</em> Daniel’s heartbeat stutter and breathing hitch at that – more the second revelation, than anything else, but still – and it’s still one of the most beautiful sounds to Max.<br/>
He can hear Daniel’s smile, the soft and almost shy smile, not the media-proofed and goofy grin so shamelessly on display wherever the racing circus takes them.<br/>
“Okay.” He says. <em>That’s kind of our thing now, right?</em> </p><p>“Let’s not talk about this, okay?”<br/>
<em>Why?</em><br/>
“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Hours later Daniel is still staring at the ceiling and biting his lip bloody. He feels it heal in an instant and nibbles at the skin again, just for it to close again. He feels the pain and the rhythm of a sharp thing melting into a soft itch, as the skin heals, matches his ever-milling thoughts.<br/>
<em>He may love me, but he doesn’t know me. And what is he going to do, if he discovers, who I am? What I am?</em><br/>
Daniel fidgets with the blanket around his waist, his tattooed and tanned skin a harsh contrast to the white duvet.<br/>
<em>I even have to put a spell on my tattoos, so they don’t heal. I might look human, but I’m not. Everything is a lie.</em><br/>
He feels tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, a pain so visceral and sharp and not mendable by any power in the world. </p><p>His phone vibrates on the nightstand and Daniel grabs it to distract himself from how pathetic and <em>wrong</em> he feels. It’s Michael.<br/>
<strong>”Mate, we should talk about the book I found with the cleaning lady. There could be a very important pamphlet in there, hidden behind runes above even our paygrade. Max with u?”</strong><br/>
Daniel looks at the phone with a soft growl, before turning towards the sleeping form of Max Verstappen next to him, dead to the world, snoring almost inaudibly, a hand cradling the edge of his pillow.<br/>
Daniel looks back at the phone and starts typing.<br/>
<strong>”We need a break. We’ll head out to NYC for a bit after the US GP. I’ll text you, when we’re back.”</strong></p><p>He doesn’t get an answer and secretly isn’t so keen on getting one. All he wants is a few days off with Max, discovering one of the largest cities in the world, strolling through museums and bars and just forget about all the supernatural drama for a while.<br/>
<em>I’m sure Hell will wait until we come back…</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act V, Scene II, Brooklyn, New York, USA, Earth</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Going on vacation between the US GP and the race in Mexico has been the best idea, Daniel has ever had – together with messing up traffic lights in all major European cities at once.<br/>
They both need this and it gets evident, when they stroll through the hip Brooklyn streets, eat in tiny restaurants throughout the city and invent funny and adventurous stories about graffiti and tags all across Queens.<br/>
Max is ensnared by the city from the moment they land on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, dragging Daniel through Midtown by his arm.<br/>
They feast on snack trailers and go to a Broadway Show, they spend days in their hotel beds and nights roaming the pubs and bars.<br/>
“You know, what I like about this?” asks Max one evening, when they sit at an oily table in their second pub of the evening somewhere in Greenwich Village.<br/>
“No, what?” enquires Daniel and wipes a droplet of condensed water from the side of his beer glass.<br/>
“That we came here with no plan and I still had the time of my life. I have spent thousands of dollars for vacations before, but it’s never been this great. I think, Award winning cuisine or five-star-hotels don’t make a vacation. The people you are together with do.”<br/>
And Daniel’s mouth hangs open for a split second after that revelation, just marvelling at Max and his beauty of body and soul, as the Dutchman doesn’t even register how fundamental his little monologue has just been to Daniel.<br/>
“I-“ He says and closes his mouth again. Max, finally done inspecting the cocktail card, looks up and beams at him, partly tipsy and partly just happy with the world and his current place in it.<br/>
“What?”<br/>
And Daniel falls back to grinning widely and shaking his head – before deciding to tell Max one truth today he's absolutely certain of and which he deserves to know above everything else.</p><p>“I love you.”<br/>
Max stops smiling and Daniel’s heart sinks down to his stomach and through the floor at the sight of it. <em>Maybe it was just sex… sex and a wonderful friendship and a dozen date nights in New York</em> He swallows around the huge lump in his throat.<br/>
“I’m sorry, f-forget it.”<br/>
“No, idiot!” Max erupts, typical pride and short fuse visible in his sharp blue eyes.<br/>
“I’m just pissed, because I didn’t expect you to blurt it out like that in public. And I wanted to say it first…”<br/>
Daniel huffs a laugh at that, licks the taste of beer off his lips and orders his heart to slow down.<br/>
“Alright, you go first.”<br/>
Max lubricates his tongue with a mighty gulp of beer, before lifting a hand.<br/>
“Okay. So. I like spending time with you. I like doing… things with you.”<br/>
“Maxy, are you blushing?” All his fear has been replaced by humour now and Daniel smirks at him widely.<br/>
“Pff, shut up.” Max picks up the threads of his thinking and clears his throat.<br/>
“I love being with you. I love cramming every event into the smallest possible window of time to make more time for us. I love our decision to meet on weekends, because – and I’ll come to that – you make me better at my job. I love the way you just enlighten this whole damn world with something as simple as a smile. I love your smile, Daniel, I really do. Bat what I love even more, is that it’s never fake. You can be one grumpy fucker, when you want to be and that’s totally fine by me. It’s-“<br/>
Max stops, drowning in Daniel’s eyes for a moment and realising how utterly sappy and romantic they are  at the moment – and not giving a flying fuck about it.<br/>
“You are honest and I feel like I could tell you everything. And I do. Because I trust you. Maybe for the first time in my life, I trust someone. You made me realise a couple of things about me and… well, how I’ve been brought up. I know, that some of this was bad and most of it was even worse, but thanks to you, I know a different perspective of it now. To be honest, I didn’t think, that it was possible. Having what we have. Doing what we do.”<br/>
Daniel sees it in Max’s eyes. Having the closeness and the opportunity, but also hiding and managing the <em>missing</em> and <em>lying</em>.<br/>
“You make it all worthwhile. <em>We</em> make it worthwhile. Althoguh, we do fight and your habit of letting wet towels lie around is annoying the <em>shit</em> out of me. And your music taste is questionable at best. Don’t you dare interrupt me! But ultimately, all of that doesn’t matter. To be honest, I always wanted to beat everyone before I even met them. I always wanted to be the best. But with you, I can even be happy, when I’m second and somehow all of that, everything we do and have and are, makes me a better man.” Shrug, as if it wasn’t important, while Daniel has to bite back tears. “Maybe even a better human being. Because you’re the most <em>human</em> person, I’ve ever met and I wouldn’t miss a minute of being with you. Given the chance, I’d rather have an hour with you, than a lifetime with someone else. And I love you.”<br/>
Pause. The noises of the pub return to them, the bubble Max conjured with his monologue starts to blur with the outside world again and Daniel takes a quavering intake of breath. Max takes a sip from his beer and nods at himself.<br/>
“You rehearsed that, didn’t you?” Daniel mutters finally and Max giggles.<br/>
“Yeah, maybe, parts of it. Still true.”<br/>
“Yes.” Daniel licks his lips and shakes his head. He can’t believe the last few minutes have actually been real. “You know, I can’t just answer to that, right? This isn’t an ‘eye for an eye’ kind of scenario, is it?”<br/>
“No. You don’t have to say anything.” And Max means it given his shrug and the smile tugging at his lips.<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
“I love you, though.”<br/>
“I know.”</p><p>Max flips the cocktail card and gasps.<br/>
“Oh my god! Karaoke!”<br/>
And suddenly Daniel finds himself in a whole other competition, choosing songs and difficulty levels and soon he’s praised as an “Angel” according to Max, tipsily singing the song on a tiny and creaking stage in the far corner of the pub. Robbie Williams would hate Max for either butchering the vocals or changing the lyrics of his smash-hit <em>Angel</em> regularly from “she offers me protection, a lot of love and affection” to “he offers me protection, a lot of dick and attention – who needs affection, when you have someone stare at your ass for <em>hours</em>” and Daniel falls off his bar stool laughing. Later it’s his choice and despite wanting to go for <em>wagon wheel</em> he does <em>Highway to hell</em>, just because he can and it <em>is</em> in fact a good song. For their duet (and the last song the barkeeper allows them to do) they go for <em>wannabe</em>. They laugh through half of the performance and spend the other half staring at each other lovingly – and drunkenly. </p><p> </p><p>By the time they get complimented off-stage and finally out onto the streets, it is way past midnight and Daniel casts a quick spell on both of them, to drain parts of the alcohol from their systems.<br/>
Max seems to notice it, because he frowns and looks at his hands.<br/>
“Weird… I just thought, I was close to being completely shit-faced… now it’s better.”<br/>
„It’s the fresh air.” Daniel states and Max follows his lead through the rainy streets.<br/>
They make fun of their way back by jumping into every puddle of water, they find, looking through bar windows and skipping above the pavement to beats audible from the various clubs lining the streets. </p><p>One street away from their hotel, Max pulls Daniel into a dark side-alleyway, a dead end street which once had been open, but is no blocked by a newly built house. Daniel feels the cold and wet bricks beneath his leather jacket, before Max’s lips cover his own and all thinking comes to a halt.<br/>
“I’m sorry, we couldn’t do this earlier.”<br/>
“It’s okay. Feel free to jump me at any given moment – just not on track, that’s illegal.”<br/>
Max snickers and sinks his teeth into Daniel’s lower lip.<br/>
“Alright.”</p><p>But they aren’t alone. There are shapes dancing in the black shadows of the alley, shadows, which soon form figures and then a group of men, stepping closer and then – attacking. </p><p>Max gets ripped away from Daniel with such force, he hits the opposite wall and slumps to the ground.<br/>
“Wha-?!” The first punch hits Daniel unexpectedly and he tumbles backwards and against a few carton boxes, soggy and disgusting from the rain.<br/>
There is no voice spoken, just five figures acting in complete synchrony, a violent dance of flying fists and pained grunts. A boot hits Daniel’s stomach as he rolls over and he  the bone cracking under the impact, before he screams in pain.<br/>
Daniel stumbles over to where Max fell onto the ground and pulls him up. Blood drips from his lip, as he looks at the strangers.<br/>
“Ooow! Fuck! Damn it, who are you?!”<br/>
He sees a sharp object flashing up in the darkness of the alley. A softly glowing sword gleams in a sharp white hue, making Daniel squint against the light. He’s seen such a blade before. In school books – what feels like ages ago. </p><p>“How did you find us?!” The man twirls the blade in his hand and points it at Max, whose face is a grimace of pain and horror. He’s hit his temple and blood runs down the side of his face.</p><p>"We demand the delivery of this human. Did you really think, you had some kind of claim over your little prince, demon spawn?!” Daniel holds his hurting ribcage and feels the torn muscle mending underneath his skin.<br/>
“No.” he gasps in disbelief and with every breath his fractured ribs send waves of pain through his upper body. And more to himself, thoughts racing, eyes flickering: “That’s impossible.”<br/>
He winces as the wound on his forehead closes. He senses Max trembling behind him, his whole body quivering with fear – or from shaking his head so violently, he stumbles backwards.</p><p>“Guess again, demon.” Says the other one and takes a step in Max’s direction. Despite the pain knocking all air out of his lungs, Daniel straightens himself and steps in front of Max.<br/>
“You touch him, you die.”</p><p>“You dare to obstruct the course of heavenly justice, Hell’s spawn?!”<br/>
Daniel squares his shoulders and lifts his chin in a defiant gesture.</p><p>“What does it look like, asshole?!” </p><p>The man squints his eyes at him, sharp grey in a face, which looks like a sculptured statue, hard and unmoving.<br/>
“A demon letting himself be killed for a human. Quite remarkable.”<br/>
“You angels must be quite rusty from all that time sitting on clouds busting your chops, mh?!”<br/>
“How DARE you?!”<br/>
The angel, the only one who’s said a word so far, calms himself down and points at the sword in his hand.<br/>
“No…” Daniel gasps, as he recognises the soft line of flames dancing along the blade, shimmering and sparkling in the dark. “I thought, it was a myth.”<br/>
“No, Petrus’s sword is real. He lent his artefact of power, so we can do our Heavenly duty. I assume, you know what that means?”<br/>
Daniel clenches his teeth.<br/>
“I can’t bring him back. It would be a permanent death.”</p><p>“It <em>will be</em>, because no demon has the power to resurrect a soul righteously killed by Holy Fire. You’re a demon. You only know death and destruction. You don’t know anything about the gift of life.”<br/>
Daniel feels the tears escaping his eyes and his shoulders drop, the bitter truth seeping into his system, up his neck and into his heart.<br/>
Still he fends it off with all his power, anger coursing through his veins.</p><p>“You feathery fuckers…”</p><p>
  <em>“What is going on here?!”</em>
</p><p>Daniel has dreaded the moment, Max would interfere and his worst expectations don’t meet up with the expression of pure disgust in the man’s face, when he glances at Max.<br/>
“Quiet, worm!”<br/>
“Max, stay back, please…” It costs Daniel all the power he can muster, but he’s forgot, who he’s talking to.</p><p>“No, what are they even talking about? Why are they calling you a demon? Angels? Is this some kind of sick prank?! Daniel, what the fuck is going on here?!”<br/>
The questions, fired from a loaded tongue like from a machine gun, get interrupted with a movement as simple as a hand raised in a quick movement.<br/>
The angel takes a deep breath and nods at his companions.<br/>
“Kill him. Make the demon watch.”<br/>
“NO!” </p><p>Daniel knows, he has no chance against four angels, especially given how old and powerful they are. They don’t hesitate for half a second before they jump at Max and him. </p><p>“No!” he screams, as he sees Max trying to defend himself, but becoming a plaything to the otherworldly beings. The first punch hits his jaw, the second his stomach and then Max’s head hits the hard brick wall. Rainwater and blood drip from his face.<br/>
Daniel dodges one punch and blocks the next, but he doesn’t see the third one coming and it breaks his collar bone.<br/>
“No, stop! Max!”<br/>
And as he sinks to the floor and feels the sharp sting of a blade entering between his ribs, slicing through his flesh and even digging into the asphalt underneath him, he sees Max collapsing to the ground – a silver dagger in his chest. </p><p>“NO!”<br/>
What should have been a manic yell, turns into a soft breath, when he feels the power of the sword draining his body. Cold blood pools underneath him and splutters into his mouth. He tries to reach Max, but can only feel his shin underneath his bloody fingertips – cold and lifeless. </p><p>Then darkness pulls him in. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act V, Interlude</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The hooded lady walks through a narrow corridor, when you see her this time. The black torch in her hand casts long stripes of light against the wet walls, making quartz pigments glitter in the dimness. She recognises you and stops still, but the way is too narrow for her to stand upright. She greets you with a nod and a soft smile, but doesn’t say anything. She scurries past you, her dress gleaming in the torchlight and white clouds forming in front her mouth. You realise, you’re way below the ground. </p><p>She illuminates a hole in the wall and pushes through, grazing her cheek on the cold stone wall in the process. Her steps make no sound in the darkness. She stops for a second at the top of a platform overviewing a grotto. Stalactites reflect the light harshly and draws dancing patterns onto the river, having carved its way through the stone since what feels like (and most likely is) the dawn of time. An uncountable amount of stairs leads down to a pier. The sandstone his coarse and icy, floating mist covers the uneven ground. With every step she takes, the lapping of water gets louder, until she reaches the landing stage and – waits. The rushing water is the only sound for what feels like an eternity, until it gets interrupted by a rhythmic scraping sound- The torch illuminates a boat, as it appears in the midst of the fog. It’s as white as bones, long and elegant and it in fact <em>is</em> made of bones. <em>His</em> bones.<br/>
A figure appears standing tall inside the boat, steering the boat with a long wooden staff. It’s completely cloaked in a black cloak, which seems to consume the surrounding light. The torch flickers in the lady’s hand, when he lifts the staff out of the water and the boat magically stops still in the current.<br/>
He doesn’t have a face underneath the wide hood and his fingers are fleshless, when he lifts them in a greeting motion.<br/>
You’ve never seen her bow before, but she does so now, lowering her head. It’s not submissive but respectful and gracious, giving praise to the long and dark figure on the boat, which isn’t moved by the water lapping at the white hull. They equal two sides of a coin, black and white, earth and water, life and death, as they stand in front of each other.<br/>
Behind him in the boat there is shapeless orb of light hovering near the rail. It casts a silver hue over the gurgling water and changes its form again and again, radiating an eerie electrical buzzing of energy. She looks at it briefly, before facing the hooded figure again.</p><p>“Charon, I great you.”<br/>
“Sister” The voice from inside the hood is low, but radiates warmth and kindness. He bows his head without it resonating with the boat underneath his shoeless feet.<br/>
She sighs and spreads her arm in an apologetic gesture.<br/>
“I’m sorry, to enter your realm unannounced, my dear brother. I know how dearly you guard your borders.”<br/>
“I see, you have left your precious loom and our sisters. How did you get past the hounds? The harps or the bones?”<br/>
She grins and she seems a million years longer all of a sudden.<br/>
“Both, just to make sure, I survive this little field trip. You know, I like stretching my legs from millennia to millennia.”<br/>
For a second eons of untold history linger in the air between them, the creating and eruption of stars, worlds and universes. Sadness and triumph, happiness and love closely woven in their endless lives and destinies.<br/>
Charon lowers his head and a deep sigh reverberates across the grotto.<br/>
“It’s been too long, my love. We haven’t met in eons…”<br/>
“I know. But you know what happens, when we are too close… Never touch a running system.”<br/>
They smile at each other sadly, countless memories exchanged with a single glance, and a small nod motions her to continue.<br/>
“It’s true. I’m here to right a wrong, committed by forces, which even surprised me.”<br/>
Charon looks at her with non-existent eyes, immeasurable wisdom cloaked by blackness.<br/>
“But you <em>create</em> wrong and right. How was it possible to outsmart <em>you</em>?”<br/>
“Who said, I’ve been outsmarted?”<br/>
She smiles and nods at the glowing orb hovering behind his dark figure, ignoring her brother’s palpable confusion.<br/>
She takes two golden coins from the wide sleeves and hands them to the ferryman. He hesitates, the long staff floating a millimetre above the water surface. She looks nervous.</p><p>“May I take him?”<br/>
“Back? Or further?”<br/>
“Back. He isn’t done yet –” She closes her eyes and you feel like she’s hearing something <em>within herself</em>, listening to a voice only audible to herself and when she opens her eyes she looks <em>devastated</em>. “And he is dearly missed already…”<br/>
He lifts a bony grey hand and the orb floats towards the lady. She opens her cloak and cocoons it into the white satin. A miniscule sigh echoes across the river banks, when Charon lowers his head.<br/>
“Returning souls is dangerous and it comes with a price... Humans are fragile.”<br/>
“This one isn’t, I can assure you that.”<br/>
Charon grips his staff tighter, uncontended with this answer, and it breaks through the water surface with a soft plopping sound.<br/>
“We will see each other again, won’t we?”<br/>
“Way sooner, than you might think. I thank you, brother.”<br/>
“Be careful, sister. Something is shifting in the air. I can feel it in the water. A power beneath the earth about to change the course of destiny.”<br/>
She giggles an almost juvenile laugh, which reverberates from the course stone walls.<br/>
“We’ll see about that. Safe journey, dear brother.”<br/>
“Farewell, sister.”<br/>
He nods and his long staff hits the rocky ground of the grotto, when he moves the boat backwards along the Styx – to return to a duty as old as this universe, guiding through the dark intermediate world between life and death. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Act V, Scene III, A side alley, Brooklyn, New York, USA, Earth</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Daniel opens his eyes and his world is made of ice. His whole body is ablaze with numbing coldness, reaching from his head to his toes and he screams in agony, as he tries to move a single muscle.<br/>
When he lifts his head under immense pain, he sees there is a <em>sword</em> stuck in his body, nailing him to the ground. He sobs and reaches for the blade, pulling at it with a straining groan. He manages to pull it out with a disgusting squishing sound, before he throws it aside. Rain droplets prick at his skin, as he stares up into the inky black night sky, dark rainclouds covering any visible stars.<br/>
<em>oh God, Max</em> </p><p>Way too fast and with hellish pain shooting up his body, Daniel turns around and crawls towards the body next to his – Max.<br/>
The sensation of his wounds healing creeps up his legs, way slower than usual, because the angel blade was blessed – wounds caused by such a weapon are far more dangerous to a demon.<br/>
Daniel closes his eyes, as dizziness makes him slump down, face first into a puddle of rain water. It’s one of those they jumped into earlier, happy and drunk.<br/>
Daniel feels himself crying, as he claws his way over to Max, fingernails breaking against the hard tarmac.<br/>
“Max. Max, wake up, come on. Max.”<br/>
But Max doesn’t wake up. His eyes are open and stare at nothing – cold and dead.<br/>
“No, no, no, no.”<br/>
Daniel holds onto him, cradling his head in his hands and wiping his cheeks with dirt-crusted hands.<br/>
“No, babe, come on. Wake up.”<br/>
He tries to find a pulse and doesn’t find it underneath the ashy skin.<br/>
“Max, please. Please, come back, please…”<br/>
<em>You’re a demon. All you do is bring death and destruction. You don’t know anything about the gift of life.</em><br/>
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Max, I’m so, so sorry.”</p><p>He rocks back and forth with as much of Max’s body in his arms as possible, shielding him from the rain, stroking his wet hair. The strands are red with blood.<br/>
“I love you, I’m sorry. I love you so much. Please…”</p><p>He looks up at the sky and blinks away blood and tears, feeling the loneliness of the whole universe and the weight of his fate press onto him until there is no air left in his lungs and he feels utterly and completely <em>empty</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Some time, an hour, a year, a lifetime later a light appears in the middle of the alley, right in front of the dead-end brick wall. A woman manifests itself, a white cloak reaching onto the muddy ground. She hurries closer with soundless steps and kneels down next to Max. She doesn’t pay attention to her robe getting dirty or Daniel cradling Max in his arms.<br/>
She bows down and listens to Max non-existent breathing, before reaching into her cloak and pulling out a shimmering orb.<br/>
“OH MY GOD!” Daniel sinks back onto his haunches as she pulls out Max’s soul and – with the precision and caution of a surgeon – puts it down on top of his chest. It hovers there for a second, pulsating and as if in doubt whether it’s sure to stay or not, before it sinks beneath Max’s black shirt and it’s skin.<br/>
The blinding light enters Max’s body and dips the alley in darkness again. The woman takes a deep breath and Daniel stares at her in utter shock.<br/>
“Who are you?!”<br/>
“Someone who still cares for this <em>damned</em> planet.” She says and Daniel sees the agelessness in her eyes, the night sky he searched for above their heads just seconds ago.<br/>
“I can't tell you more at the moment, I'm sorry." She hesitates and takes a deep breath, before clicking her tongue. A gesture which doesn't fit her appearance. "I care for you, Daniel, but I can’t take care <em>of</em> you, you hear me?! I brought him back, because you need him, <em>we</em> need him. We all do.”<br/>
“You brought him back…”<br/>
She looks down at Max, still motionless and dead. Daniel’s vision is so blurred by tears, he can hardly see.<br/>
“Why…?!”<br/>
“Because something as simple and insignificant as a human life can change the course of history, Demon. And Max is neither simple, nor insignificant, we both know that.”</p><p>A tiny film of shimmering light forms around Max’s whole body, cradling in a warm hue just like Daniel does, softly pulling him away from his touch.<br/>
Max floats in the air for a second, his soul reclaiming its former habitat and settling in every cell of his body.<br/>
Daniel can’t look at the beauty of it and averts his eyes.</p><p>“What am I supposed to do?”<br/>
And suddenly Max’s chest lifts itself off the ground with a huge intake of breath, his whole body jolting up. The woman watches him and then locks eyes with Daniel.<br/>
“Tell him, tell him everything. <em>He needs to know</em>.”</p><p>And with that she vanishes into thin air, without a sound and just as sudden as she appeared in the alley.<br/>
Max coughs and retches, eyes watering and skin pale – but alive.<br/>
<em>He’s alive</em>.</p><p>“Max!”<br/>
Max stares at him with widened eyes, shaking like a leaf and pushing himself up in a defensive reflex. Daniel sees realisation and disbelief fight each other in his eyes.<br/>
Max’s voice is a shaky whisper, but loud enough to make Daniel’s ears ring.<br/>
“What the hell happened here?!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I could finally fit Charon into this, my name-patron and favourite mythological figure of all time. And "Lady Universe" (<strong>lily_katie</strong>, looking at you) has not one, but <em>two</em> big appearances here.<br/>All the songs mentioned should be famous enough to recognise.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, this chapter is way longer than the rest, because I couldn't divide it any better and because I'm taking a small vacation for roughly a week from writing and all, so please be patient regarding updates etc. .<br/>Enjoy your summer, folks, take care of yourselves and<br/>"read you soon"</p><p>Charona</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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